Be with Me

Even though his eyes were shielded, there was no escaping his stare. No one looked at you like Jase Winstead did. It was like he was seeing right through me, layer by exposing layer. “Is it because of Saturday night? I was pretty inebriated. Shit, I don’t remember anything from the moment I stepped into your dorm.”

The back of my neck prickled. “Nothing?”

He shook his head. “So God only knows what I said and did, and I must’ve said something, because you didn’t want to get in this Jeep with me.”

Part of me wanted to punch him in the balls even though I knew beyond a doubt that he’d been drunk—drunk enough to have no recollection of telling me that I was a reason for why he’d visited Cam so much or our little interlude on the floor. It took a lot for me not to blast him over that, but what point would it serve? He’d been sloshed, and I had been the one who went out to meet him and then let him in my dorm. All this was temporary, and I couldn’t let this make an already crappy situation worse.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You didn’t do or say anything to make me mad.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “But I slept on your floor and you slept on the couch?”

“Yeah . . . uh, you sort of fell down and stayed there.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I fell asleep on the couch.”

“Nice.” He coughed out a short laugh. Several seconds passed, and I considered making a mad dash out of the car. “We’re friends, right?”

My heart sunk in spite of my convictions on the state of him and me. “Yes.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, friends give friends rides, right?”

I nodded, knowing where this conversation was heading.

“So what’s the big deal?”

Looking away, I blew out a long breath. Spending any amount of time in his presence didn’t help my determination to put an end to this stupid crush, but there was another reason. “I don’t want people thinking . . .” Picking at the hem of my shorts, I shook my head. “There’re a lot of things I can’t do right now—dance, work out, run, or even jog at a sedate pace. I can walk. That’s about all I can do.”

I kind of felt stupid after saying that and I doubted he’d understand how hard it was for me to go from being so active to becoming a sloth. And not even the cute baby sloths.

“Ah, here I was thinking you were secretly hoping I’d pick you up.” He switched gears into reverse.

I laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You’d never be a disappointment.” Looking over his shoulder as he backed up, he smiled, and I wondered if he could see the way my pulse had jumped at his words. “I get what you’re saying. It’s hard when you’re used to doing something that was as common as breathing to you.”

“It is.” I tugged on the string dangling off my hem. “I miss the rush of dancing and ru

Shifting into drive, he relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. He was quiet as he navigated the parking lot. “You know there are other things you could do.”

Like sex? I bet that was relaxing when it was all said and done.

“You know one of the most calming things I’ve found?” he asked, having no idea that my mind was happily playing in the gutter. “Horseback riding.”

I blinked. “Ah . . .”

He gri

“Yeah,” I whispered, sort of stu

He nodded. “That’s how it feels to be on top of a horse. You should try it. I think you’d love it.”

I shifted, having no idea what to say to that. Was it an invitation to his parents’ farm? Did it matter? Getting in a saddle was tantamount to playing chicken with a pissed-off T. rex to me.

“Hungry?” he asked, changing the subject before I could answer. “I’m heading over to the Den. Cam and Avery are there. They’ve got to have better food than the dining hall.”

They did. I shrugged.

“Come on.” He reached over, nudging my arm. “Come on and eat with us.”

My lips twitched as I glanced at him. This . . . this was the Jase I remembered. Teasing. Open. Fun. Someone I could talk to and be honest with. As stupid as it was, I found myself wishing that he’d remembered what had happened after he stepped into my dorm. Then again, it was probably better that he didn’t. “I don’t want to come across as the little sister tagging along.”

“You’re not.”

I shot him a dry as sand look. “I’ve tagged along half of my life. I followed him to college.”

“You didn’t follow him, Tess.” He paused as he slowed for the stop sign, glancing over at me. That half grin was back. “And guess what?”

My lips responded, curving up at the corners. “What?”

“He doesn’t care if you did follow him here. He’s happy that you’re here,” he said. “I don’t care if you did follow him. And I’m happy that you did.”

Five

I stopped fighting Jase on the whole riding-versus-walking thing pretty quickly, especially as the leaves from the huge maple trees planted throughout the campus turned from bright green to a beautiful array of red, gold, and brown. September eased into October with a spell of rain that seemed to be never ending. Fall was well under way, and every morning and night, a chill rolled off the Potomac, warning that this could possibly be a very cold and a very wet winter.

And at least once a week, he’d stashed a cupcake in the Jeep, keeping it cool in a little cooler in the backseat. On the way to east campus, we’d share the tasty goodness. He was going to make me gain ten pounds this way, but so far I’d had a variety of cupcakes—Twix, Oreos, strawberry, white chocolate, Skittles—that was kind of gross—banana and chocolate, and a dark chocolate cupcake that was so decadent I felt like I had to go to church after eating it.

Today we shared a red velvet cupcake with some kind of cream cheese icing.

It was divine.

Wherever he got these cupcakes from deserved a gold medal in fucking awesome.

Thick, fat clouds crowded the sky by the time music class let out on Wednesday. It was going to rain. Again. With my knee, I had to be super-duper careful on the slick sidewalks. Busting my ass would be as embarrassing as it would be devastating.

I waved good-bye to Calla as I climbed into the Jeep. The second after Jase turned the ignition, the Elvis Presley cha

Jase stopped—just completely stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “Did you just do what I think you just did?”

“What?” I asked i

Cars were pulling out behind us, but his Jeep blocked their path. The look on his face said he so did not care. “You just turned off The Man for . . .” He glanced at the radio, grimacing. “For Godsmack?”

“Hey. Don’t you talk shit about Godsmack.”

“I have no problem with them.” A horn blew. He ignored it. “Until it affects Elvis.”

“I ca

His mouth dropped as his brows winged up. “We ca

I giggled.

Jase narrowed his eyes as he finally—thank God—put the Jeep into drive. “It’s a good thing you’re cute or I’d drop-kick you out of this car.”

I laughed outright as I settled back in the seat. “I could say the same thing about you with your questionable tastes.” A wide smile pulled at my lips as he shot me a disgruntled look. “Country music has got to go.”